These Broken Wings
by pickleshibby
Summary: Inspired from the episode "Tempting Fate" one shot between Catherine and Narcisse. The morning after :) Rated M for angsty, sexy, stuff!
1. Chapter 1

"These Broken Wings'

Summary: The morning after Catherine and Narcisse make love.

AN: This is just a little ditty I dreamed up having been inspired from the episode "Tempting Fate." I was so very HAPPY to see OUR TRUE QUEEN back in action…and getting some action ;)

It's a One shot for now…but who knows where the wind shall take me. I will be back with posting new chapters of "Love and War" soon, my dear's. Not to worry, I have not forsaken you. ENJOY!

RATING: M- ANGSTY SEXY STUFF AHEAD ;)

The sun streaming in through the pulled curtains of her room began to warm her body beneath the heavy covers pulled over her waist. She willed her limbs to move, they were heavy with exhaustion from her activities the night before, but also heavy with the burdens that awaited her with this morning's light.

With closed eyes, she thought back to the night that was not so far behind her. She had cracked. Her usually calm and collected exterior crumbled to ashes before Lord Narcisse with her worst fears coming true. She felt it in every fiber of her being…she was losing her son. He was everything to her. Despite the ramifications it would have on France and potentially her life, she was losing yet another child.

She'd let her fears be seen for the first time in her life. She'd never been so blatantly open, even with Henry. Her worst visions spilled out of her uncontrollably, in front of a man she wasn't certain she could trust. After last night, she so desperately wanted to trust him. However, that was something she was very good at.

She took a deep breath, and reached her arm out to the side to find cold sheets, and an empty bed where the man who'd brought her so much pleasure the night before should be lying.

She sat up, pulling the sheets with her to cover her naked body.

"Stefan?"

"I'm here."

She furrowed her brow looking to the end of her bed. He was sitting in a chair, staring at her. He'd been watching her sleep.

"What are you doing? How long have you been awake?"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully,

"Long enough. You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you."

He stood from his chair and made his way towards her.

"So you've simply been watching me? Why?"

As he sat on the edge of the bed beside her, taking her hand his he began to rub the back of her knuckles with his thumb. He shook his head slightly with a small, thoughtful, smile on his lips.

"Gaining perspective, as I always seem to be doing with you. Things in my life become more and more clear the more I'm around you."

He was different; distant but somehow closer to her than she'd ever thought a man could be. He leaned forward and cupped her cheek allowing his blue eyes to search her own for a moment. She saw something in his gaze. Could it be? No..she wouldn't think that, not yet. She would not allow herself to be weakened by foolish hopes and dreams of everlasting love. She knew such a thing was not possible for a woman like her.

He took a deep breath and went back to holding her hand. His voice was steady and calm, like a soothing balm to her aching soul.

"I've readied a hot bath for you, and your ladies will serve you breakfast when you are finished, then help you ready yourself for the day. I know you have great matters to attend to in the coming hours, and I won't stand in your way. However, we have much to talk about if you are willing to give me some time this afternoon, perhaps?"

She nodded as that was all she could manage as she felt hot tears begin to prick her eyes at the mention of all she had to "attend" to today.

"If it suits you, I will meet you at the stables later? We could go for a ride and find some place peaceful to speak."

Again she nodded absently, her thoughts falling to one person…..Francis. He must have sensed it. He placed a chaste kiss to the back of her hand, replaced it in her lap, and began to rise from the bed.

Desperately Catherine reached forward and clutched his collar of his shirt, the same way she'd done the night before. This time his eyes closed momentarily as his large hands covered her tiny ones.

"Tell me it was a dream…tell me it was a nightmare…that it isn't real. Tell me, Stefan…tell me that my son isn't dying…..tell me I'm not losing him."

He shook his head and leaned down to capture her face in his hands as she allowed her tears to break their dam. She became vulnerable and raw again. She didn't know how to manage herself this way. Stefan, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what to do.

He brought his lips to her temple and kissed. Then moved his lips to a falling tear and kissed. Moving on to her other hazel eye, he did the same, kissing away her tears; taking away her hurt. The whole while he soothed her with his voice.

"Shhh…shhhh….it's alright. Everything will be alright…I'm here."

She cupped his face in her hands as he pulled back from her staring into her eyes searching for permission to continue. Her voice came on a pained whisper,

"Make it go away. Make love to me…make me forget…if only for a moment…please."

Her voice sounded so foreign to her own. She'd never begged for anything in her life, much less to be made love to. However, for Stefan, that was all he needed; just those few words. He stripped himself of his clothing with lightning speed, leaning over her and causing her to lie back into the softness of the bed.

He pulled the covers down from her body exposing her to his eyes. Catherine turned her head from him and tried to grasp for the sheets once more to cover herself again, he stilled her shaking hands as he whispered to her,

"Don't cover yourself. Don't be ashamed of your body. You are beautiful...every inch of you. I've never seen anything more beautiful."

She was notoriously bad at taking compliments, so she fought the urge to protest. She gazed into his eyes and released herself into his able hands allowing herself to become pliant to his touch.

His mouth covered hers, stealing a moan from her lungs as he covered her with his own body.

She arched her back into him at the feeling of his warmth against her skin. Stefan began to blaze a trail of kisses from her mouth to her neck, sucking and biting ever so lightly.

She knew he wanted to continue his path, to torture her with his mouth the way he'd done the night before, she knew he wanted to take his time, however as she felt him part her legs and place his straining erection at her center, she could tell he knew exactly what she needed. Him. Just him, to strip her of her pain.

He grasped her face in his hands, and forced her to lock eyes with him.

"Hold me in your eyes, don't look away, don't close them."

She nodded and with one swift motion he entered her. He stifled her scream, covering her mouth with his. She dug her nails into his back, her hips rising to meet his thrusts.

He began to pepper her face with kisses as she gasped for breath, feeling sweat begin to rise to her flesh. With each, punishing thrust he was taking her further away from reality, causing her to spiral downwards into oblivion; further away from the pain that threatened to overtake her.

She arched her neck, inviting his kisses and felt her core begin tighten. Her breath hitched an octave higher and she felt desire stretching it's fingers around her entire being. She broke his kiss and bit her lip hard as she clenched her eyes shut. He gripped her face in his hands again, continuing each long thrust, never breaking his stride,

"Stay with me…stay with me Catherine. Look at me..I need to see you."

Her hazel eyes snapped open and locked with his again, they met each other thrust for thrust, push for push. She felt it then, she was losing the battle to hold on. Her entire body seized as she felt her release build. With one more thrust and a loud groan, they both came undone together. Finishing with each other's names on their lips, he rested his forehead against her own allowing her to settle from her release feeling her body still tightening around him.

He kissed her sweetly on her forehead, and rolled to the side taking her with him. She rested her head on his chest, willing her breathing to calm. He clutched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, bring her gaze up to his.

"You must know something…I know that whatever this is between the two of us is the furthest thing from your thoughts…rightfully so; but I want you to know..unless you banish me from your life all together..i'll be here, however you need me. I will not abandon you, Catherine."

She leaned up and kissed him, it was a kiss full of gratitude and passion. She closed her eyes as she rested her forehead against his neck,

"Oh Stefan…I'm so broken."

He cupped her face in his hands again, tracing the contours of her mouth with his thumb,

"Then let me fix you."

AN: Hope you enjoyed! Feedback, as always, is CRAVED!

Cheers J


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Lord Narcisse's perspective the morning after "Tempting Fate" episode.

AN: I don't own anything about "Reign." This started as a one shot, but had to add another. Rating M for sexy stuff. ENJOY!

He had long been awake and dressed in his clothes from the night before. As he was lacing up his trousers Charlotte had entered to rouse Catherine. He'd held up a finger to his lips to signal her not to say anything. She looked confused with his presence and as if she was torn between listening to him and her duty to the Queen Mother.

They had a hushed conversation about drawing a bath, then he gave orders for her breakfast to be delivered to her chambers. He wanted her to have as much time as possible to dress for the day and ready herself to face the many challenges he knew awaited her.

As he paced for a bit, trying desperately not to wake her, he thought it strange of him to feel the need to care for a woman such as Catherine. She'd never needed a man's care, and he knew how abundantly strange she felt when comforts were offered to her from men. No doubt he would be no different.

He already knew of her distrust for him. His lust for power made him no different than her. He'd caused an awful uprising in France with his blackmail of her family, he'd never regretted his decisions of that time until this very moment.

His gaze settled on her half naked form tucked beneath the white sheet of her bed. She rested on her stomach, sheets bunched at her waist, the contours of the porcelain skin of her back exposed to the early, morning, light. He sat in her vanity chair at the foot of her bed as he continue to study this woman who was such a mystery not only to him, but to all of France and most of her family. Her copper hair fanned out over the white linens of the bed caused her to look like an angel. She was peaceful, her breathing even and steady. He hated that she ever had to wake to face this day.

He knew of the challenges she'd spoke of. His promise that he'd made to her the night before was not one he would go back on. He couldn't help the pang of guilt that struck him as he thought about the fact that she very well could become regent of France, and if he stayed at her side what that would mean. The thought that had him completely twisted was the very real fact that he was realizing how little he cared about any of that; that in this small moment, all he wanted to do was to protect her from harm and from pain.

He smiled to himself as he thought back to the night before. He had always entertained women much younger than Catherine, and had never had a desire to look to any woman who was closer to his own age...before her. It amazed him, how much she made him want her. Her touch was so different than that of women before her; she didn't reach for him with trembling, inexperienced hands; but rather with a touch that was certain and confident. She knew how to give back. She knew how to make him feel just as wanted by her as she was by him. Everything about last night was a first.

Most of the women he brought to his bed were quiet and somewhat timid. That type of a woman ignited a need in him to seize control with them. To allow himself to experiment in various ways of pleasure because they were so pliable and willing to give themselves over to him.

Catherine was everything they weren't. It was a battle for control with her. She'd had no problem taking hold of the reigns. She'd fought him for control as he did the same and it ignited something in him he'd never known that he had. She was confident in everything she did. She wasn't afraid to tell him what she wanted and wasn't afraid to express her pleasure.

He gave a small laugh, thinking back to when his lips had trailed their way down the slope of her stomach and how she tensed when he brought his lips lower. She'd shot straight up and looked at him,

"Stefan?! What the hell are you doing?!"

He looked at her with shock and amazement.

"Don't tell me a man has never done this for you?"

He'd laughed out loud when she said, "That all depends..what exactly are you trying to do!?"

He'd convinced her, finally to lie back, part her legs, and not fight him; and above all to trust him. That first contact of his tongue on her was heaven for him and apparently the same for her.

Remembering how her back had arched violently off of the bed and the string of Italian curse words that left her throat on a moan; he'd smiled viciously up to her and coyly asked,

"More?"

Her eyes shot to him as she seethed between clenched teeth, "Stefan..so help me God if you stop i'll have you drawn and quar...AR...T..."

He'd stopped her rant by running his tongue agonizingly slowly up her cleft and plunging a single long finger into her tight depths.

"What was it you were saying?"

She cursed at him in Italian again as her head dug into the pillow and her fingers clutched the sheets in her grip so tightly her knuckles turned white. The sweat that had caused her skin to glow in the firelight, her screams of delight as she would find her way on top to control the pace, and her moans and gasps as he would re-gain control and flip her onto her back. They continued to dance like that all night.

Stefan's thoughts were brought back to the present as he saw her hand reach out, trying to find him. His heart gave small ache as he heard her very tired voice call his name. Before he came to her, he prayed silently to God that he could change his usual ways, that he could be someone for her that she might come to need; because though he didn't want to admit it, he was falling in love with Catherine De Medici.

To alenarose: my love to you, dear, for continuing to read and for your lovely reviews.


	3. Chapter 3

"These Broken Wings"

Summary: Jumping ahead with the Narcisse and Catherine saga, this is what I wanted for them, because my Queen still deserves to be LOVED.

**AN: Because it they are going to keep Narcisse around-this is the way it needed to go. Not painting our Queen like some desperate psychopath, even though i'd like it more if he were gone.**

Rating: T

She could handle this one of two ways. In her typical, Medici, fashion she could rant, rave, and scream-then leave him. Or she could try something different. The last few weeks had brought with them renewed clarity. Sleepless nights, and nostalgic events had caused Catherine to think back on the events of her marriage. She remembered the happy times, the early years, but most of all she remembered the downfall. The moments where Henry had run to the arms of another-or had he run? Had she pushed him? He always told her that she pushed him away because she grew bored of him when they couldn't produce an heir soon enough. She would never openly admit that she truly feared that more than anything. That she was ultimately responsible for the downfall of their terrible marriage; that she had somehow pushed him back into the arms of Diane. Henry would beg her, plead with her, to give her heart to him. To open her soul and have a _real _emotional connection with him. However, she had never learned anything about love other than the fact that it was a delusion; and that men didn't want love. They wanted lust, and whatever wasn't willingly given to them; they would take. She was damaged. She knew it, but she couldn't shake this feeling. She cared for Stefan. She had grown to love his company, but she didn't trust herself to break old cycles. She was heartbroken at the news relayed back to her by Charlotte.

_How much he would have cherished her_-Catherine scoffed at the words Charlotte overheard him say, "Rubbish." She took a deep breath, rising from her desk slipping into a regal facade.

"Madeline?"

The youngest member of her flying squad came rushing in giving a delicate curtsy, "Yes your Grace?"

"Would you please go and find Lord Narcisse and tell him that I desire his company for dinner this evening."

The young woman looked confused, "My Lady, forgive me, but dinner? Most of the kitchen staff is gone and provisions are low and-"

Catherine held a hand up to stop her babbling, "There will be no dinner, Madeline. Please-for once just do as you're told without questioning me."

She curtsied again then left the room. Catherine felt the beginnings of a headache building from the back of her neck. An impending war, a man who was fighting for her love then betrayed her trust, her legacy and family name at risk of being destroyed by a damned Bourbon Prince-it was all too much.

She decided to change clothes. Stefan loved her in Red. She would wear something that would warm him up quite nicely. She tried desperately to ignore the nagging pain that clutched at her chest each time her thoughts strayed to Narcisse.

_you came out of it thinking you were unlovable. _

How right he was. Henry's many indulgences had done irreparable damage to her soul. She'd forgotten the alternative to living any other way but with Henry's humiliation. She'd learned it so well that she learned how to be the stoic Queen on one side as Diane stood on another. The whispers of the people, the lies and rumors that were spread, she'd learned to live with it all. Doing that takes a great amount of playing a part. Not showing your hurt or weakness anywhere but behind closed doors-that takes a will that is fiercer than nature's fury. She had perfected it. What she was about to do, however, would blow that cover to pieces and possibly cost her more than she'd ever been willing to pay. She'd been willing to bend to a man's will at one time, bottle up emotions and fears, and stand in the background waving a white flag of surrender while he continued on as he pleased. She wouldn't do it again. Stefan had fought for her to trust him. She would show him that she does-despite his kiss with Lola, and the fact that he was a man known for his many conquests of young, noble, women. Even giving Catherine De Medici a second glance was uncommon for a man like Stefan Narcisse.

_Give up this idea that no one can know you, and still love you._

If that was what he wanted, to _really_ know Catherine, to know what her fears were and for her to open her heart to him, he would get that. She just hoped that he wouldn't be sorry for what he'd wished for.

**AN: I only continued this story because I had received a lot of requests to do so! As always, I write for you all! Much love!**


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